


concertos all the way down

by kbaycolt



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e09 743, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Reginald Hargreeves Bashing, Self-Indulgent, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, because i wasn't happy with both ben's death and klaus' role this whole season, rewrite of ep 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25965211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbaycolt/pseuds/kbaycolt
Summary: Butterfly to a corkboard. Violin bow to the throat."Ben! I need you to anchor me!""What are you doing?" Ben shouts."I have," Klaus shrieks back, through hysterical, panicked laughter, "no fucking clue! Hold on tight!"***Klaus gets to Vanya instead of Ben. Somehow, things go right for once.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 37
Kudos: 596
Collections: The Umbrella Academy





	concertos all the way down

_Perhaps,_ Klaus thinks, a bit hysterically, as he clasps his hands tightly over his ears and cowers in the corner behind Allison's trembling form, _this was, in fact, not a fantastic plan._

There's a myriad of things he'd like to be doing right now that do not involve bearing the full force of Vanya's destructive powers while his siblings shout at each other, but unfortunately, his selfless decision to assist Allison in disposing of a Swedish maniac cost his personal safety yet another trip to save the world from meek little Number Seven. He doesn't know what they're supposed to be doing and isn't about to ask. With his heart in his throat and the thrum of sound waves drowning out his own internal monologue, he curls into a ball and shuts his eyes, desperately attempting to block out the way the floor vibrates beneath him and makes his teeth chatter.

Ben crouches next to him, pulsing white light illuminating his transparent ghost body every few seconds. He seems unaffected by the sheer cacophony of noise assaulting the three humans in the hallway, which Klaus is both resentful and extremely jealous of.

Distantly he hopes whoever forced Vanya into this state gets what they deserve. He hasn't seen the dead bastards yet but knows he'll be chewing them out later.

If there _is_ a later.

If he dies from this, he's going to be so pissed. He doesn't exactly look forward to seeing God again. She's such a jerk.

Allison and Diego are bickering. Klaus really, really doesn't feel up to this right now.

"You can count me out," he manages, bringing a flask to his lips.

"Klaus," Allison groans.

"What? You guys should save her. You're great at all the hero shit." Klaus has never, nor does he ever, want to be the one who saves the day. That's Diego's lane, and Klaus knows how to stay the fuck out of it.

Allison smacks him and he flails backwards. Ben is glaring at all of them.

"Listen, listen!" Klaus protests, waving his hands. "Vanya would understand because she has realistic expectations of what I am! And what I am is sexy trash."

He knows full well how his voice is trailing off into a whine, and Diego can clearly hear it because he leans over and snarls, "You're a big pussy, that's what you are."

"Guys, now is _not_ the time," Allison snaps.

"Why? Because I don't want to die?" Klaus says, omitting the 'again' that he wants to add. They don't have the time to unpack all that, what with their current situation of hiding out while Vanya decimates the building and everyone in it with her ridiculously overpowered sonic abilities, that, mind you, no human being should be capable of creating. "And martyrs aren't around the enjoy the victory party 'cause they're dead!"

He thinks he might be hyperventilating. Ah. Well.

Diego lunges across Allison's lap and makes a grab for Klaus, who scrambles even farther back into his corner with a cry. "You are going out there—"

"No!"

"—or I'm gonna beat you, and not in the way you like it!"

If they weren't about to all die a horrible gruesome death, Klaus would've laughed at the slightly out of character yet well-timed sex joke.

"And that's my cue," Allison says. She steps out into the open.

Diego shouts her name, but she escapes his grasping hands and vanishes. Klaus whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut again, tighter this time. Oh what he'd give to be hopped up on every drug imaginable right now.

"Dammit." Diego hisses. His hands flutter uselessly over his lap as he returns to huddling next to Klaus. "Dammit, _dammit_."

"You couldn't have stopped her," Klaus offers. "You know how she gets when she's all determined."

"Yeah," he mutters.

"On the bright side, if anyone's getting through to Vanya it's going to be Allison."

"The last time Vanya and Allison were together in a heated space," Diego says, "Vanya sliced her throat open, so no, I'm not exactly optimistic for Allison's chances."

"Way to be a downer."

Ben kicks Klaus' foot. "He's got a point. Go out there and _help her_."

"No," Klaus moans, hunching in on himself. "You're the ghost, _you_ go help her."

" _Klaus_."

"Alright," Diego says abruptly. "I'm going."

Klaus grabs his sleeve and tugs hard, his heart rate kicking up to rather incredible speeds. "No, wait, wait, wait—"

"What?"

"If you don't make it back, there's one thing I need to tell you."

"I don't have time for this."

"Please."

"What?" Diego snaps, whirling around.

He might be slightly more tipsy than he realized, because what he means to say is 'you can do it, you're a hero, Diego', but what comes out of his mouth in a trembly, earnest slur is this: "You look like Antonio Banderas with the long hair. I just thought you should know."

Diego gives him a considering look. "Thanks, man."

And then he's gone.

Klaus slumps down fully, flattening his palms over his ears as if it will do anything against the staccato thumping of white light that pulses down the hallway. He's never been much inclined towards music, but he does remember snippets from mandatory lessons as a child, and he finds a striking similarity between the rhythm of Vanya's unbridled fury and the jackrabbit beat of 6/8 time signatures.

In that childishly snide way, he used to wonder if Vanya had anything inside her besides violin concertos, all the way down.

He knows better now.

The pounding of Diego's knives as they bury themselves in the floor blends smoothly with Vanya's tempo. Klaus feels Ben poke his shoulder and reluctantly removes his hands from his ears, a question on his tongue, before Ben points over his head.

"Klaus!" Diego is shouting, voice almost lost in the chaos. "I'm not gonna make it!"

With his self-preservation instinct rebelling against him as he goes, Klaus hauls himself up off the floor and peeks over the top of the desk to hear his brother better. Instantly, the strobing lights overwhelm him, and he presses his forehead to the wooden edge with a soft moan of pain, trying to ground himself before everything that's happening triggers a flashback, which would just be his luck, huh?

"It's up to you buddy!" Diego is yelling. "You gotta save the world!"

"No, that's a terrible idea!" Klaus shrieks.

The line unspools and flies over his head. A steadying object. Diego has stopped making noise, which means that whether he likes it or not, it's time to step up.

God, he hates this.

Bending over, he grits his teeth. He can fit in a very brief pep talk. "Okay, Klaus," he growls to himself. Ben hovers nervously nearby. "You can do this. You fought in _Vietnam_. You survived a family of _seven_. You once wore a sarong to a fraternity party and got a shitload of numbers!" An anxious grin breaks out over his face, briefly quelling the spark of gnawing terror which is responsible for how badly he's shaking.

He stands up.

The blast of raw power nearly throws him off his feet, but he manages to grab the the line and holds firm, ignoring the blood gushing from his nose and the bone-deep vibrations that rattle his entire body. He puts one foot forward. Then another.

Slowly, agonizingly, he drives himself closer and closer, fingers aching with the strain of clinging to the line with all of his strength. His foot slides; panic shoots up his spine—

And then someone steadies him.

Glancing to the side, he finds Ben pressing a solid hand in between his shoulders, urging him onward. Klaus' grin widens, tinged with mania, as his brother nods gently at him and gestures to the end of the hall.

With Ben keeping a confident weight at his back, Klaus moves.

Each step is more difficult than the last as the harsh waves of energy grow rapid and violent, increasing in speed as they inch closer. Blood streams from his ears. The fear coursing through his veins fades into background noise; a dull hum inside his skull that fuses seamlessly everything else. If Ben hadn't shoved Klaus those few extra steps, he isn't sure he would've made it. But he does make it.

He releases the line and snags the door handle with a cry of effort, pulling himself up precious centimeters and closing the gap. He gasps as a massive burst of force almost erases all of his progress, but he holds on with a death grip, eyes stinging from looking directly into the bright flashing lights for too long.

"You can do this," Ben shouts, hands still placed firmly on Klaus' shoulders.

Klaus sucks in a shuddering breath, and yanks the door open.

Ben catches him when the pent-up power inside the room comes flooding out, slamming into Klaus with concussive force; hard enough to throw him backwards and into Ben's wonderfully strong arms, which wind around his chest to better stabilize him. Klaus sinks momentarily into Ben's grasp, ears ringing and every muscle screaming in pain.

"Klaus!" Ben shouts. "Klaus, stand up! You've gotta get to Vanya!"

Klaus really thinks he's done enough and would like someone to take over for him now. But Ben shoves him upright, forcing him past the wildly swinging doors and into the room where Vanya is having the second-biggest freakout she's experienced in her lifetime.

 _Less casualties so far,_ he thinks morbidly.

Powered with strength he hadn't known he possessed, Klaus lurches forward and latches onto the arm of the chair Vanya's strapped down in. She's jerking and shaking uncontrollably, mouth open in a mute scream, her appearance warped and outshone by the halo of white that explodes from every inch of her.

Briefly, he's overwhelmed with deep rage for the people who did this to her—Vanya, his sweet, timid sister with her eternally sad eyes and so, so much talent that life had tried its hardest to beat down, but shines through anyway. Vanya, who stood up on that stage and played the violin so beautifully despite the theatre collapsing all around them. Vanya, with her gentle smiles that could light up a room.

Vanya, his sister, in so much pain that she can't even scream.

Ben is gripping his arms tightly and yelling inaudibly. Klaus' head spins as he finally gets his legs up underneath him, struggling into some semblance of upright. His vision swims and momentarily turns all staticky, causing him to shake his head violently to clear it. This is absolutely _not_ the right time to black out. Vanya's glowing white eyes pierce right through him.

Butterfly to a corkboard. Violin bow to the throat.

"Ben!" Oh, what the shit. Might as well give it whatever the hell he's got. "I need you to anchor me!"

"What are you doing?" Ben shouts.

"I have," Klaus shrieks back, through hysterical, panicked laughter, " _no fucking clue!_ Hold on tight!"

His clenched fists begin to glow with crackling power, and everything dissolves into blue light.

* * *

It's dark.

Klaus opens his eyes and finds himself splayed haphazardly across a staircase, squinting into a haze of shadowy blue that filters down from above in rippling sheets. As if he's underwater.

Music is playing distantly, but it's echoey and muffled, like someone is playing from behind a closed door.

"Is that Bach?" he groans to himself, sitting up.

He's no longer bleeding from multiple places and his head doesn't hurt like a bitch anymore, so he guesses this isn't the physical world. What the fuck is going on. "Since when can _I_ possess people?" he mutters. "What a great time to figure out I have new powers. Fantastic."

Vanya. Right. Gotta remember why he's here.

Getting to his feet, he rubs a hand down his face and hopes he doesn't look the wreck he feels. The staircase goes down a few more steps before it ends, and the room opens up into a strange, surreal replica of their childhood home's parlor. The windows are blotted out with a deep blue color that shifts and warps like the abyssal ocean. Over his head, the ceiling is open, allowing gentle white light to stream down.

"Woah," he whispers. "What the...?"

The dining table is empty and abandoned, with only a single white violin resting atop the polished surface. Klaus walks over to it and reaches out to pick it up, only to notice the carved f's in the wood don't seem to be hollow. In fact, there seems to be something inside the violin, trapped within the sleek wood.

He leans close to inspect it, and then he's falling.

"Ack!" he yelps, eloquently, as he hits the floor. Startled, he realizes the curvy f's are now above him, and he's... inside the violin? How is he inside the violin? "Am I sure I'm not tripping on something," he muses, pushing himself up. The light shining through the openings creates white silhouettes on the checkered floor, something about them oddly ghostly. But then again, most things in his life are oddly ghostly. "This is weird, man."

The delicate violin notes trail off into an eerie silence as he climbs to his feet and surveys the interior of the violin.

There. Curled up beside a pillar, for all appearances fast asleep, lies Vanya.

Klaus staggers towards her. "Hey, hey, Vanya," he says in a rush, hurrying to her side. "There you are. I was worried about you. We all were, I mean, you're kinda flipping out out there, so..." He stops talking when she shifts to look up at him and he sees the expression on her face. "Oh. Oh, sis..."

Vanya's eyes are glistening with tears. She opens her mouth and begins to cry.

"Oh, oh no, okay, okay, come here." Klaus tries to usher her into a hug, but she flinches away from him and draws her knees up to her chest, making these horrible little gasping sounds as she tries to stifle her sobs.

"Don't touch me," she whimpers, and she's trembling all over, her entire body shaking like a leaf. "You—You shouldn't be around me, I-I'm dangerous, I hurt Allison and I hurt—I hurt Pogo and I—" She dissolves into tears again, hiding her face in her hands. She looks very, very young all of a sudden. Klaus' heart aches. "I remember e-everything I did. I'm a _monster_."

"No, no, no no," Klaus murmurs. "Hey, hey, don't say that. You're not... goddammit, you're not anything like that."

"How can you say that? I-I-I'm a _bad_ person, and I—" Her breath hitches. "I'm not worth it. I don't—I don't deserve to—"

"Don't finish that sentence," Klaus says, his stomach dropping.

"I'm sorry," Vanya chokes out, "I'm sorry, I'm _so, so_ sorry, I'm doing it all over again and I don't know how to _stop_."

"That's okay. Vanya, it's okay. Everything is fine, we're all fine, we're... It's not your fault, no one... no one ever gave you a chance to learn. Dad didn't let you. It's not your fault, okay?" Klaus grasps her hands in his own, desperately willing her to understand. Her eyes meet his, and the pain in them makes Klaus want to break down himself, but he keeps it together. He shuffles closer to her on his knees. "And you know how I know you're not a monster?"

She shakes her head.

"Because I see monsters every day. Let me just tell you, my God, they're ugly."

Vanya manages a short, watery laugh. Klaus gives her what he hopes is a warm smile.

"Listen, you can't... you can't take a striker and a fuse and shit and call it a grenade before someone even pulls the pin. Dad treated you like a weapon for no goddamn reason because he was an _asshole_ , Vanya, not because he was _right_." Klaus squeezes her hands. Her brown eyes are still shimmery, but she's stopped crying, so he's counting it as a win. "You deserve to be mad at him okay? I mean, you of all people deserve to be _monumentally_ pissed off. Believe me, none of us are done being mad as hell at that scumbag. No one's asking you to move on, or God forbid _forgive_ him, but..."

He sighs. This is all so unfair. Reginald-fucking-Hargreeves doesn't deserve to take up one more moment of any of their time. He doesn't deserve to linger for years as a nightmare, haunting their every step even as some of them turn to drastic measures to escape the memories of their horrific childhoods.

And still, they can't catch a break.

Sometimes, he would be curled up under the sheets in some shitty motel room, scared out of his mind that he will never stop hearing Reginald's cold voice ringing in his ears—" _Number Four"_ —until the day he'd finally kick the bucket, most likely in some dark and grimy alleyway without a cent to his name, unable to remember the last time he'd spoken to anyone who might think to look for him.

When the intrusive thoughts, thrown into high gear by the drugs, got a little too vivid for his tastes, he'd see it: a morbid albeit realistic vision of loneliness and failure, exactly everything his father predicted he'd become.

He doesn't dream about dying alone anymore. Nowadays, he daydreams about dying alongside his family, which objectively, is hardly better, but still a marked improvement in his humble opinion.

"Klaus?" Vanya prompts quietly, looking up at him with a terribly soft expression.

Quiet, soft little Vanya. Number Seven, with her violin and her empty eyes. Vanya, with her muted smiles and ever-reliable presence in the background. The White Violin, with her sharp edges and blinding light.

His sister—who Klaus now understands _is_ violin concertos all the way down, and every last one is brilliantly, cataclysmically, apocalyptically alive.

Klaus smiles at her, and his eyes sting. "But you gotta get back up again. Stick it to the old man one more time, yeah? Think of it as the act of rebellion you never got to have." He rises to his feet, pulling Vanya up with him. She rubs her eyes and sniffs, and the drawling, sweeping violin notes start up again in the distance. The music noticeably slower and calmer now; a lullaby instead of a badinerie. He knows _some_ musical terms.

"I did rebel," she protests. "Diego and I started a punk rock band when were sixteen."

"Pfft, that? Compared to the shit I got up to back in the day? Please. You don't hold a _candle_ to my rebellious phase. Which, by the way, I never really grew out of if you think about it."

Vanya laughs weakly as Klaus draws her out into the middle of the room. Or, violin. What is this place, again?

"How do I go back?" she asks, squinting into the white light from above.

"Uh... not sure, actually. I don't even really know how I got here. Ghost shenanigans, I'm sure." Klaus' lips twist in contemplation. "I don't know, maybe just do your whole terrifying magic thing and you'll figure it out."

" _Klaus_."

"Wait, wait, hold on, I have an idea."

He shakes out his hands and blows out a quick breath. Experimentally, he reaches out, and... there. Like a string pulled taught, he feels Ben's soul snap back towards his own, seeking, grasping for him. A trembly blue light dances over his knuckles.

"Well, shiver me timbers," he chuckles. "Ben's a fine anchor after all. Come, come, Vanya, I've got us." He gestures at her encouragingly when she hesitates. Vanya steps closer to him and tentatively winds her hands around his arm, holding him loosely. "Might wanna hang on tighter than that."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asks nervously.

"No," he says cheerfully. "But when do I know anything?"

"Klaus."

He looks down at her with a faux-confident smile. If he botches this, he'll never forgive himself. But he owes it to Vanya to try. "Hmm?"

"Thank you." She bites her lip. "We're not—We're not alone at the table anymore, are we?"

Klaus thinks about Allison and Diego, sprawled, unmoving, in the hallway; their desperate bid to rescue their sister. He thinks about the way Allison hadn't paused for one moment before leaping into the pool to greet him. He thinks about Five, always plotting and planning and scrambling for the next possible route to save them from a gorey demise. He thinks about Luther, striving to lead them the only way he knows how, and failing at every step, sure, but _trying_ nonetheless.

He thinks about Ben, sticking by him for seventeen years for reasons unknown.

Klaus pats Vanya's shoulder. "No. I guess we're not."

Blue light envelopes them. Klaus follows his anchor, and Ben leads them home.

**Author's Note:**

> this is heavyyyy on the wish-fulfillment. anyways regardless of my minor grievances with Klaus and Ben's arcs I absolutely loved season two and am overall pleased with the direction they took it
> 
> okay so while Klaus calls it "ghost shenanigans", I do actually have an explanation as to why he can do what he does in this fic. basically, ghosts are the souls of living people, implying that souls and bodies are technically two things, joined together until a person dies. Klaus' ability to summon spirits therefore implies the possibility that he can divide a person's soul from their body. in this fic, using Ben's soul to anchor himself, he divorces his own soul and "possesses" Vanya to speak to her. going back into his body involves putting his soul and body back together, which,, is probably a bit of a messy process, but we're glossing over that for the sake of an ambiguous ending.
> 
> and after this of course Ben lives and Klaus actually fights in the finale and they have a Chat™ about the possession arc and everything is a-okay :)))
> 
> thanks for reading!! <3


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